Mondovino vs. Bottle Shock

Two films ruffled my feathers this week; the first, Mondovino, intellectually and the second, Bottle Shock, left me aggravated and cheated. There is nothing worse than feeling as uf an hour and a half of your life has just been flushed down the crapper.

Mondovino, a documentary by filmaker and trained sommelier Michael Nossiter, focuses on the globalization of the wine industry and polarizes the struggle between large and small producers in the United States, France and Italy. Nossiter, an American who grew up in Europe, simultaneously shoots footage and interviews some of the biggest names in the business: Parker, Rolland, the Mondavi and Frescobaldi Familes. The raw footoage and obtuse camera angles at first suggest to the viewer that Nossiter is nothing more than a mere amateur, foolishly stumbling into unknown territory. As the film progresses, however, the filmakers intent becomes clear: hide the camera and let each person tell their personal story. Not without a bit of prodding now and then of course.

Conversely Bottle Shock, a film starring Alan Rickman and Bill Pulman, was a gross mis-adaptation of the true story of early beginnings of the now legendary Chateau Montelena, the winery that went on to win first place in a private wine tasting at the Academy du Vin in Paris in 1976. Where Mondovino shocked with heavy critiques of the wine industry, the creators of Bottle Schock conjured up a complex plotline that climaxed conventionaly and completely misrepresented the actual history of the 1976 Paris tasting. Hollywood at its finest folks: throw in some plastic, a couple big name actors, an ubelievalbe love tale and a triumphant father-son struggle. Wallah! Another blockbuster for the uneducated masses!

From the begining of the documentary, Mondovino gives the mic to the little guy, even if he is screaming out to deaf ears from beneath the boot shadow of globalization. In the opening scenes Italian vigneron Battista makes a heartfelt declaration "It's not just the rich people that have the right to cultivate grapes. Poor people have a right too," wagging his pointer finger up and down. Battista looks away flustered and pans back to the camer, "But now people have become lazy. Carried away by consumerism. They've lost their identity."

In his work the Omnivore's Dilemna, Michael Pollan echoes some of the similar beliefs. The general population, specifically Americans, no longer chose their food, but rather have their food processed and chosen for them. All over Europe, people are afraid that the capitlist machine and consumer culture are already starting to erode their traditional values, customs, holidays, food, way of life and wine, too.

From the rolling vineyards of Italy, the documentary jumps into Michel Rolland's speeding mercedes, as the world famous wine consultant motors off to Chateau Le Gay in Pomerol, Bordeaux for a tasting. Rolland, a Bordeaux based oenologist and consultant to over 100 wineries worldwide, quickly sips, spits, and checks his watch as he is handed another barrel sample. Rolland spits again and states tersely "you must micro-oxegenate." Katherine, the owner stands close by in approval and Nossiter inquisitely asks her if she knows what that means. Rolland quickly interjects laughing "She does what I say. We do things because it makes the wine better."

Nossiter fires back offering "Not everyone shares your ideas about what makes a better wine."

Rolland offers a convenient response, still smiling for the camera. "That's called diversity. That's why there are so many bad wines." General approval and laughter creates a backdrop for the scene.

Ironically, Rolland is one of the most influential consultants that has been accused of homogenizing the wine industry. While working as a "flying winemaker" across the globe Rolland has worked endlessly, creating plump, fruit packed wines heavily influenced by the use of new oak. Over the last thirty years wine critics, such as Robert Parker, have begun give high accolades to young red wines with seamless tannins and big fruit that can be drank shortly after their release. Industry critics however believe that consultants like Rolland will lead to the death of diversity and individuality of regional wines. Soon it might become difficult to recognize the origin or a wine style, whether it be from Bordeaux, Napa or the Maile Valley.

Likewise, wine critic Robert Parker has been heavily criticized for his part in the homegenization of the wine industry. Parker, a wine writer by trade, became famous after he systematically classified the Bordeaux Chateaux in the 1970s with a one-hundred point rating system. Since then Parker has become one of the most respected (if not heard) wine critics in the industry. The stroke of his pen has become so powerful that many wine he gives over 90 points will most likely sky rocket in price and demand overnight.

Parker, however, sees himself as a Robin Hood figure, a small town American boy who revolutionized the French wine industry by leveling the playing ground. At his home outside Baltimore Parker remarks that when he was in law school Ralph Nader had a big influence on him and his future career, "the idea that everything was controlled by money and big business." And while Parker often gives big scores to smaller, lesser know producers, many of his highests scores go to the Chateaux with the most capital and financial backing. Not to mention the fact that Rolland and Parker are good friends, and the critics scores often times compliment the consultants handy work.

Conciencious wine objectors have dubbed this phenomenon the "Parkerization of wine." In effect many wineries have begun to mold their wines to Parker's palete in order to garner high scores from the critic.

Among the films personalities that rails against the Parker and Napazation of wine is Domaine de Moline's former oenologist and paterfamilias Huibert de Moline, a bald geriatric French man who trundles along as drops bundles of wisdom here and there. Touring the Tallipieds (Teathered Foot) Vineyard in Volnay, Huibert emphasizes that it is the place, rather than winemaking style that gives a wine its uniqueness. The French emphasis on terroir, all the environmental factors play into growing wine grapes on a specific piece of land, is held by many in the Old World as the most important factor in producing an outstanding wine. Moline points out that much like a classic piece of Greek literature, the Tellipieds vineyard, which was established in the Middle Ages, will long outlive his wine by centuries if not millenia.


Changing gears the film skips the pond to the United States, where Nossiter arrives in Napa Valley at the Robert Mondavi Winery. Immediately everything becomes artificial, gaurded. While Europe is steeped in tradition, the U.S. struggles for its own identy. First, the filmaker is greated by Mondavi's personal assistant, who insistst that Robert is positioned so that a recent dermalogical operation is hidden from the camera. Marching through the courtyard, the film stumbles upon a tour. In the middle of a pack is John, a humorous and personable doscent, asking the visitors to stare out into the vineyard and the next time they sip a bottle of Robert Mondavi "remember this beautiful vineyard and imagine yourself in Chianti, the south of France or some other beautiful vineyard you have never been to." 'Shouldn't they imagine themselves in the plush Napa Valley?' I asked myself. Feed garbage to the hordes and empty their wallets at the door.


The Mondavi's seemed, however, to be concerned with nothing more than image: Parker's reviews, selling copious amounts of wine and investing ventures abroad and at home. Take for instance Opus One, the meticulously groomed brand shared with France's Mouton-Rotshchild. The collaboration boasts an ostentatious winery where image and prestige reign supreme. 100 percent new oak barrells, exhorbitant pricing and no shortage of capital.


Stagliano Cellars is another winery featured in the film started by dotcom millionaire, Garen Staglin. As the adulterized name might suggest Staglin set out to model the winery based upon Italian styles, with the intent of making a wine with a hefty price tag. In America, capital is worship, identity is formulated in an office and creativity is spurned.



The only fault with the film might be Nossiters flip-flopping between the European mainland and the U.S. as he begins to make connections between empires. His emphasis, however, is simple: don't forget about the little guy. Remember wine is something to be enjoyed, not a beverage to only be prized and paraded about by the aristocracy.


Throughout the film dogs take the center stage, each one symbolic in their own respect. Parker has a Basset Hound, second only to the Bloodhound in sense of smell. In Argentina a campesino struggling to hold onto his small terrenito in the face of capital owns a black mutt named Martin Luther, a symbol of hope. Confusing the general public and indubitably shocking any upper class, Nossiter focuses his final shots on a pair of dogs on the streets of Italy. One lays in a flower box while the other comes from behind to sniff his rear. The prostrate dog gets up to leave and the new dog takes his spot. A perfect allegory for the wine industry: find a something you like, a style, a region or winery, and then copy it or use your weight to make it your own.



Bottle Shock, aside from the sweeping jawdropping shots of the Napa, was a complete waste of time and money. "VERY LOOSELY BASED ON A TRUE STORY" would have been a better caption to use to start the movie. Let's start with the facts ommited in the movei. Steven Spurrier was doing great business in Paris before the tasting of 1976 took place, mostly to English and Americans working inside of the city. The primary reason of the tasting was to demonstrate to the French that a revolution was taking place in the wine industry, and the U.S., was now a country capable of producing world class wine.


So lets get a few things strait. Bo Barret, as the time of the tasting, was a mischevious youth rather than the winery's savior. Sure, he eventually went on to become a great winemaker, but he did not end up in an racing to the airport to ensure Chateau Montelena's wine made the Paris tasting, nor was he present in Paris when the wines were judged. Jim Barret, however, was in France, although he was hundreds of miles away tasting in Bordeaux. Chateau Montelena never had a second generation Mexican winemaker named Gustavo either. The real winemaker that crafted the 1972 Alexander Valley Chardonnay was Croatian immigrant Mike Grgich.


The film's title Bottle Shock, is another name for the term bottle sickness, which occasionaly occurs after bottling when oxgen or too much added sulfur can give the wine a flat flavor and even turn the color a murky brown. The symptoms usually dissipate in a few weeks as the wine breathes oxygen through the cork. In the movie, Jim Barret has sent the shocked bottles to the dump but in real life they were signed and bound to be shipeed to a wine liquidator.

In the final scene (which I painfully limped through like a wounded deer), the character "loosely" represented as Steven Spurrier realizes Chateau Montelena has won for best wine in the white category. Glancing to the back row he recognizes Bo in his bellbottoms and tighfitting ringed t-shirt and quickly escorts him from the tasting hall, shot in an roofless French farmhouse for added affect (the actual tasting took place in a banquet hall).

"Do you have any good clothes in here?" Spurrier pries, pushing Bo's suitcase towards him.

"Well, yeah," Bo responds confused.

As Spurrier announces Chateau Montelena's Chardonnay as the winner the French judges sit aghast and then turn their heads to the backof the building, where a long haired Bo Barret stands, fancied up with a blue sport coat. And just like Spurier tried hide the true Bo Barret in the film, Hollywood has moronically turned the history of Jim Barret's dream come true into a steaming pile of poop.

Right now, the story of the Judgement of France and the history of Chateau Montelena rise to fame is suffering from a bad case of "bottle shock." Hopefully someone will step up to the plate and breath some fresh air into the subject through a new feature film or documentary. After all, who reads books in the Twenty-first century?


For the truth check out:


The Judgement of Paris: California vs. France and the Historic 1976 Tasting that Revolutionized Wine, by George Taber, Simon and Schuster


And don't forget to rent:


Mondovino by Jonathan Nossiter